


15 Years On

by Powerfulweak



Series: High School Reunion [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Artist Castiel, High School Reunion, Jo is a hot mess, Love Confessions, M/M, Nerd Dean, Past Pining Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 19:48:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7946851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Powerfulweak/pseuds/Powerfulweak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester left high school King of the Nerds. 15 years later, he comes back for his high school reunion a suave, cultured tech millionaire. With all that's changed, one thing sure hasn't: His feelings for brooding artist, Castiel Novak.</p>
            </blockquote>





	15 Years On

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [Jade_Maiden_333](http://archiveofourown.org/users/jade_maiden_333/pseuds/jade_maiden_333) for beta reading.

Dean stares up at the bare brick facade of the building in front of him. After walking away from this place over 15 years ago, he never thought he’d come back. Of course, that’s what most people tell themselves about their high schools.

It seems smaller now than it did when he was 17, but Dean assumes that’s just his perspective. Music and voices pulse from inside and Dean can feel the strange looks he’s getting from the other former students as they pass him on their way in.

“Here goes nothing,” he mutters to himself as he heads for the door. The first thing that hits him is the smell of the place, all at once overwhelmingly familiar and cloying: old wood, floor polish, the metal of the lockers, and the lingering odor of sweat from the student bodies normally lining the halls. Dean hates it but can’t help himself from taking another deep breath, the scent and memories washing over him as he does. He passes by the glass trophy case at the entrance, glancing over the tarnished statues and plaques inside. None of them his, of course. Dean wasn’t on the football team or basketball team. The only time he’d spent at their school’s sports field was waiting for Sammy as he finished up soccer practice. Dean felt more at home tucked away in the metal shop or the tech room, tinkering on some project or playing Magic the Gathering with Harry and Ed.

As a bespectacled, awkward, and somewhat pudgy teenager, Dean had been the farthest thing from a jock anyone could imagine. He catches sight of his reflection in the glass of the case; can’t say that anymore, he supposes. The glasses are gone, thanks to Lasik surgery a few years back. The baby fat has long melted away, leaving only high cut cheekbones and physique his personal trainer could be proud of.

The only physical feature remaining of his adolescence is perhaps his stupidly bowed legs.

“Hi there!” a   primly-dressed  woman seated at a folding table calls out to him. “You here for the reunion?” Dean’s eyes flick to the badge pinned to her cardigan: “Becky Rosen-Klein.” He vaguely remembers her, only because she forced her presence on the entire class with her various roles at school paper editor, creative writing club president, student council president, etc.

Dean nods. “Uh, yeah,” he says. “Dean Winchester.” He cringes at the way her eyes widen at his name.

“Oh My God! Dean Winchester!” She jumps up from her seat and and claps her hands over her mouth. “This is such an honor! I cannot believe-” Dean gives a polite smile and waves her off. He hates this reaction.

“It’s really not a big deal,” he mumbles.

“Let me just say that we, as a town, are… so proud of you,” Becky says in complete seriousness. “Like, you are just-”

“It’s fine, Becky,” Dean says. He looks her in the eye and switches on the charming smile that has gotten him so far in the business world. “I do appreciate the sentiment, though.” Becky beams as she hands him his name badge and he can feel her smile still radiating at his back as he walks away.

“Dilemma” by Nelly blasts from the speakers as Dean descends the stairs into the gymnasium. The floor is already crowded with people, nestled amongst the tables dotted around the floor. Dean didn’t attend his prom, but he’s sure that this is exactly what it looked like. He spots the makeshift bar across the room and beelines to it; he’s going to need some bolstering to get through tonight, that’s for sure.

“Dean!” Dean would recognize that voice anywhere. Before he can turn around, two arms wrap tightly around his shoulders, nearly knocking the air out of him.

“Hey, Charlie,” he gasps, turning around. Aside from a punky haircut,  Charlie looks exactly the same, right down to her ubiquitous Star Wars t-shirt (although now topped with a blazer instead of a hooded sweatshirt.) Charlie lets him go and just stares at him for a long moment before punching him in the arm.

“Dean Fucking Winchester! Holy Shit!” Dean can’t help laughing at her dumbfounded expression. “I’m just…I can’t believe you’re here.”

Dean shrugs. “Uh… I’m here.”

“Yeah, but normally multi-millionaires don’t come back to their podunk hometowns for their 15 year high school reunion.” Charlie points out.

“Lawrence is not a podunk,” Dean says with some offense.

“Compared to Silicon Valley, it is,” Charlie huffs. “You look so different, oh my God. What happened?”

“Just… good living,” Dean says, playing aloof even though he knows he looks pretty damn good. A Hugo Boss suit can make anyone look good.

“Yeah, well send my regards to whoever told you to ditch the flannel,” Charlie snorts. She loops an arm into his. “C’mon, let me buy you a drink and we can catch up on the last _15 fucking years_ after you disappeared into thin air.”

Dean dealt with the expected onslaught of questions and only had to deal with two more outbursts from Charlie (“You practically invented Gmail and you couldn’t even drop me a line?!”). They ran into Jo who wanted to hear all about Dean’s life in California.

“There’s not much to tell,” Dean says. “I pretty much do the same things I always have.”

“Only instead of D&D in your Mom’s basement, you’re vacationing with George Clooney and giving the Keynote at E3.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “I didn’t vacation with Clooney,” he says. “I was staying at the villa next door. We had dinner once.”

“Oh, well that changes everything,” Charlie says in mock horror. “Seriously, Dean, you’ve gone full ‘She’s All That’ on us. It’s amazing.”

“Well, I can tell you I’m the same as I’ve ever been,” he says. “I work, I spend time with friends-”

“Got a lady in your life?” Jo asks coyly, chewing at her straw. Dean laughs, blushing slightly.

“Nope, no I don’t,” he says, looking her squarely in the eye.

“Of course he doesn’t,” Charlie nudges Jo. “He’s probably still carrying a torch for Castiel.” Dean freezes at the mention of the name. Jo giggles to herself.

“You are _so_ right,” she says. “God, you had the biggest crush on that guy.”

“I remember,” Dean mumbles, taking a sip of his bourbon.

“Oh Dean, don’t be embarrassed,” Charlie insists. “It was adorable, really… Ok, a little bit sad, but mostly adorable.”

“It was only sad because Castiel was an asshole about it,” Jo insists.

“No, no, he wasn’t an asshole,” Dean mutters, waving his hand.

“He was, Dean,” Jo states. “Everyone in school could see you were head over heels for him, _except for him_ . Meanwhile, he was plowing his way through every warm body in the art department, including a _teacher_.” Dean frowns and takes a long pull off his glass. It’s been years but thinking of that still hurts. Castiel had been the brooding and cool artist, tattooed and pierced, while Dean had been King of the Nerds and so hopelessly infatuated with a boy who barely knew of his existence.

“Was that really true?” Charlie asks. “About Ms. Masters?” Jo shrugs.

“All I heard is that her divorce was really messy and someone saw Castiel getting into her car after school one day.” she says.

“C’mon, guys,” Dean groans, not wanting to rehash anymore painful memories. “Those are just rumors.”

“Whatever happened to him?” Charlie asks. “I remember hearing how he was supposed to be the art world’s new Wunderkind, but then just kind of... “ Charlie waves a hand in the air. “Disappeared. I heard there was some sort of sex scandal or something.”

“There was no sex scandel,” Dean pipes up. Charlie and Dean both look at him.

“So you _have_ been following his career?” Jo says.

“I might’ve seen something in passing,” Dean says. “There was an interview in New York Magazine. He just got sick of the art scene and wanted out. That’s all.”

Jo shakes her head. “I’m sorry, but you won’t convince me there’s not lurid shit behind that,” Jo replies, sipping at her drink. “And anyway, he-” Her words falter and her eyes widen abruptly.

“Holy shit,” she murmurs. “Look who decided to climb out of the woodwork.” She points toward the door. Dean turns his head just in time to see Castiel coming down the steps.

“Same as it ever was,” Charlie sighs at Dean expression. “He looks good.” Dean can only nod, he does look good. Gone are the baggy jeans and Doc Martens, replaced slim-fit dark slacks and a gray vest which highlights his toned frame. His dark hair is shorter but still artfully tousled and as he looks around the room, for the briefest moment, his too-blue eyes meet Dean’s.

Dean feels a hand on his chin as Charlie claps his mouth shut. “You’re drooling,” she says. Dean snorts and turns away.

“Whatever,” he mumbles, downing the rest of his drink and ignoring the little flip in his stomach.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the evening passes as Dean expected: food, drinks, and reminiscing with people who wouldn’t have given him the time of day in High School. Every once in awhile, Dean catches sight of Castiel out of the corner of his eye, invested in another conversation.

“You should go talk to him,” Charlie says. Dean stops mid-chew of a mozzarella stick and gives her a pointed look. “I’m serious! Look he’s headed to the bar right now. Perfect opportunity.”

“I know what you’re doing?” Dean says, swallowing his food.

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m being real subtle about it,” Charlie snorts. “Do it! Shit or get off the pot and make a move.”

“While you’re at it get me another Long Island.” Jo holds up her empty glass. Dean frowns at it as he takes it from her.

“How the hell are you still conscious?” he asks. “You weigh a buck-o-five soaking wet.”

“And yet I can still drink your pretty ass under the table,” she counters. “Now, chop chop, go! Buy Castiel a drink and tell him you’re madly in love with him.” Dean rolls his eyes and sighs; Might as well give them what they want.

He approaches the bar. Castiel’s gaze flicks to him a moment as he take the spot next to him. Something in the air between them grows charged. Dean glances down at his hands; his fingers sit only inches away from Castiel’s on the bar. It would be so easy to just extend his own hand to reach out and touch them. There’s a sound of a throat clearing suddenly grabbing Dean’s attention. He looks up to find Castiel’s piercing gaze on his own.

“Hello,” he says, his voice deep and smooth. A hint of a smile pulling at his lips.

“Uh...Hey,” Dean says, smiling back. He turns back to try to get the bartender’s attention. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Castiel giving him a curious look, biting at his lip.

“I think I’ve seen you before,” Castiel finally says, finally breaking the tension. Dean laughs to himself.

“I should hope so.” Dean turns to face Castiel, leaning one elbow on the bar.

“Dean Winchester,” Castiel says with some satisfaction, mirroring Dean’s position. “Technical genius,  millionaire, philanthropist… Just a regular Tony Stark, huh?”

Dean holds up a hand. “I prefer to think of myself as Bruce Wayne,” he corrects. “Afterall... I _am_ Batman.” Castiel laughs and shakes his head.

“I’m sure,” he mumbles. Castiel leans to the side, looking around Dean, a thoughtful V forming just above his nose. “Were you aware there’s a pair of women staring at you very intently?” Dean could laugh at Charlie and Jo’s lack of subtlety.

“Yeah, those are my friends,” He replies. “They think I should buy you a drink.”

“Oh really?” Castiel says. “Because  Hannah over there,” He points out a serious-looking, dark haired woman who quickly ducks her head when she sees she's being watched, “thinks I should buy _you_ a drink.”

“Ah.” Dean nods. “Guess we’re at an impasse.” He places a fist onto his flat palm. “Rock paper scissors?”

“You will lose, you know that?” Castiel laughs, but Dean can only shrug. The bartender approaches them to take their orders. Before Castiel can say a word, Dean has his credit card out and in her hand.

“On my tab, a long island, a club soda with lime and,” he hooks a thumb at Castiel. “Whatever he wants.” Castiel gives him a perturbed look, but doesn’t argue, ordering a whiskey sour.

“Dean, what’s taking so fucking long?” Dean winces as Jo’s shout rises above the noise of the room.

“My friends are… interesting,” Dean says, somewhat apologetically.

“I see that,” Castiel replies with a chuckle. Dean tips his head toward the table.

“Care to join us?”  Dean asks and Castiel nods. They grab their drinks from the bar and head back to the table.

Charlie and Jo’s glee is palpable as Dean leads Castiel back to the table, but they remain composed and friendly. The foursome chat idly, eventually joined by Hannah (who Dean vaguely remembers from one of his French classes). All the while, Castiel is a warm presence at Dean’s side, casting him soft smiles and flirtatious looks when he thinks no one else is watching.

Of course, Charlie and Jo notice, though, shooting him suggestive looks and lewd hand motions whenever Castiel turns away from them.

“Hey Castiel, is it true you slept with Ms. Masters?” Jo asks after her third Long Island, leaning over Charlie's shoulder. Castiel’s brows draw together.

“Did I what?” Castiel asks. “Meg? No!”

“You sure?” Jo slurs. Dean is embarrassed for her, but Castiel just laughs.

“Believe me, I'd remember,” he chuckles. “No, no… I did not sleep with Meg. She’s a friend of my mother and after her divorce she stayed with us for a few months while she got back on her feet. Used to give me rides home.” Jo gives a satisfied frown and sips at the dregs of her drink.

“Well, there's one mystery solved,” Charlie says. “Did you know Dean was totally in love with you in high school?” Now Dean truly is embarrassed, ducking his head away and pretending to be occupied with his club soda.

Castiel looks at Dean, a wry grin spreading across his mouth.

“Is this true?” He asks

“You didn't know?” Hannah pipes up. “My God, Castiel, even I knew. I thought everyone in school did.”

“Not everyone, I suppose.” Charlie narrows her eyes at Castiel.

“Guys,” Dean groans, pulling a hand over his face.

“I’m pretty sure even the teachers knew,” Jo points out. “It think the only reason Dean didn’t get Valedictorian is that they thought he’d use his graduation speech to confess-”

“Alright, you’re cut off,” Dean interupts, pulling her glass out of her hand.

“I truly didn’t know,” Castiel says sincerely. “And Dean, I am sorry about that.”

“Cas,” Dean gives hims a pointed look.

“Let me make it up to you.” Castiel rises from the table. “Care to dance?” The opening chords of “Kiss Me” drift from the speakers. Dean looks up Castiel, his hand extended toward him, blue eyes bright and shining in the dim light of the room. Dean smiles and nods, taking Castiel’s hand and letting him lead him onto the dance floor.

They are one of only five couples dancing and the only same-sex one. Castiel doesn’t seem bothered by it, wrapping his arm around the small of Dean’s back as he clasps their hands together.

They move slowly around the floor. As much as Dean has tried to broaden his horizons since leaving Kansas, dancing was never in his wheelhouse. Castiel moves like he’s walking on air though, and Dean is happy to let him lead.

“Having fun?” he asks after a couple quiet minutes. Dean nods.

“Yeah, I really am,” he says. “I was kind of expecting all of this to be a bust but… I’m having a really good time.” Castiel tightens his arm around Dean, pulling their bodies flush together.

“I’m glad.” Castiel’s voice comes out in a harsh whisper that sends chills up Dean’s spine. “I glad… we have this.” Dean smiles and moves forward, leaning his temple against Castiel’s

“I wish I’d known you better back then, Dean,” Castiel continues, whispering in his ear.

“You didn’t know me at all.”

“Yeah, but I wish I did,” he sighs. “I was such a little punk in high school with such a chip on my shoulder. Had I bothered to pull my head out of my ass I would’ve seen there was this amazing guy who wanted-” Dean cuts him off, pressing his lips to Castiel’s chapped one. Over the music, he swears he hears Charlie’s gasped “Oh my God” and a “fuckin’ finally!” from Jo.

Castiel mouth is hot and tastes sweet. His tongue slides against Dean’s smoothly, deepening the kiss. Their mouths move together like they were made for each other.

“Cas, life’s too short for regrets,” Dean mumbles against his lips when he pulls back. He leans in for another kiss, more innocent. Just a tender  press of lips as the song draws to a close.

The Emcee takes the mic once more, announcing they will be handing out awards in a few minutes. Dean isn't listening though; he's focused on Castiel and the heated look in his eyes.

“Want to get out of here?” he asks, tipping his head toward the stairs.

“Yeah, I do,” Castiel says. They walk off the dance floor, hand in hand, only stopping for a moment to say goodbye to the trio of women beaming back at them. A very drunk Jo gives a wolf whistle as they reach the exit and walk out of the gymnasium

Dean knows as soon as they leave, they will all congratulate each other and take credit for tonight. He doesn't care; he's got Castiel and that's what matters.

They take the Impala to the hotel, Castiel’s hand wound in Dean’s the entire drive. At every stop light, Castiel leans over and pulls Dean’s hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on his knuckles.

The hotel is the finest one in the area, booked specifically for that reason by Dean’s assistant. They pull into the entryway and Dean hands the car keys to the valet with specific instructions to “keep her pretty.” They walk across the deserted lobby, getting only a polite smile from the front desk clerk as they head to the elevator.

They step inside the elevator and Castiel leans against the back wall, patiently waiting. Dean slips the keycard into the panel and presses the button for the penthouse. As soon as the doors close, Castiel grabs Dean’s arm and pulls him close, kissing him as fiercely as he can. Dean cups a hand in Castiel’s hair, tugging a little at the soft, dark strands. Castiel hums, wedging a leg between Dean’s and rubbing against the growing bulge in his slacks.

The ride seems to end too soon, the elevator doors opening right into the penthouse suite. The decor is closer to a fully-furnished apartment than a hotel room. Dean once again takes Castiel’s hand and leads him inside.

A single lamp is lit in the living room area and a dark-haired teenager sits on the side next to it, reading. She raises her head from her book as soon as she hears the elevator doors open and smiles when she sees Dean and Castiel.

“Hey,” she says, standing from the couch and stretching. “You’re back.”

“Yeah,” Dean says. “How was she?”

The girl shrugs and runs a hand through her hair. “Restless. I don’t think she likes sleeping in a strange place.”

“Daddy?” a small voice comes from one of the bedrooms followed by a small blond girl in Doc McStuffins pajamas. “Papa?”

“Hey, Claire,” Dean says, kneeling down as the little girl flops into his arms for a hug. “Can’t sleep?” Claire pouts out her lip and shakes her head. Castiel touches Dean’s shoulder.

“I’ll get her down,” he offers. He leans down, scooping Claire into his arms. “C’mon, Honey Bee.” He retreats back into the open bedroom as Dean pulls out his wallet, extracting a couple $20s.

“Thanks again for doing this, Alex,” he says.

“No problem.” Alex replies. “I like watching Claire. She's a sweet kid.”

“Well, we appreciate it,” Dean says, handing her the money. “And tell your mom we’ll be by tomorrow for dinner before we leave.”

“She’ll be happy to hear that,” she says. “Did you have fun tonight?”

“Yeah, it was just our high school reunion,” Dean says, walking her toward the elevator.

“Oh, I didn't know that you guys were high school sweethearts,” she replies, eyes lighting up. Dean gives a soft laugh.

“Not exactly,” he says. Dean bids her goodbye and the elevator doors shut. He hears Claire's bedroom door close softly and Castiel’s footsteps on the plush carpet leading to the master bedroom.

“Coming?” he asks. Dean shakes off his suit jacket and drapes it over a random chair, eager to get to bed with his husband.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://powerfulweak.tumblr.com/)


End file.
